


Once More Unto the Breach

by IntoTheRiverStyx



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx
Summary: Arthur Pendragon, Uncrowned King of the Skies, didn't ask for this life. He wanted freedom, wanted to see the world and take over his father's international trading company when he was older. He's doing his best, and his best is going to have to get him - and the entirety of Pendragon Corps - out of the most dangerous scandals in history.With his Ethermancer willing to work well outside regulations and his flagship crews willing to risk everything, they're going to do what they do best.Run like hell.This is a major revamp of a previously uploaded story.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Once More Unto the Breach

“Arthur!” Lancelot called after his Captain, “Arthur, wait, stop!”

Arthur ignored his second-in-command as he ran forward. On flat ground, he knew he was faster, and he also knew he'd be running out of flat ground in about thirty paces.

Unfortunately for both of them, he also knew there was no ground in about thirty paces.

“Arthur, you can't -” Lancelot stopped, “Oh, for fuck's sake, you can't swim.” Lancelot knew Arthur didn't hear the last half.

Arthur took the jump at a run. He felt like he was flying unassisted for a heartbeat before the fall took over.

Lancelot took the jump at a dive to outpace Arthur to the impact. He felt the sharp slap despite his hands breaking the surface first. He returned to the surface as quickly as he could. Arthur had already landed.

Lancelot groaned and swam over to the most disturbed part of the water to fish Arthur out.

“I'm fine, Lance!” Arthur insisted right before he coughed up water, “Really.”

“You're a hazard to yourself,” Lancelot grumbled as he dragged his captain onto the rocks, “Kay will be along shortly.”

Arthur grunted and laid back on the dry rocks.

“Why do you do this?” Lancelot asked as he hoisted himself out of the water, “You can't swim.”

“You can,” Arthur's breathing was slightly strained.

“You are CEO and a Captain,” Lancelot told him as if he needed reminding, “You can't just keep doing that.”

“There's no room to breathe up there,” Arthur gestured to the sky, “It's my grandfather's world, not mine.”

Lancelot looked disappointed for a moment, but managed a neutral expression before Arthur noticed.

“I know, I know,” Arthur huffed as he sat up, “Pendragon Corps is the last major trading company that The Commission doesn't oversee directly, and without someone who isn't afraid to tell them to fuck off in charge, they own everything.”

“You said it,” Lancelot sighed. 

“It's so different, looking up from down,” Arthur's head was tilted back, “Almost primal.”

“It's just different,” Lancelot dismissed him.

Arthur rose to his feet. Lancelot followed suite.

“Kay, you said?” Arthur asked, “Why Kay?”

“Because we knew you'd do something stupid,” Lancelot shrugged, “so he dropped me off to chase you down. He'll circle back in a few.”

They hiked back to the top of the cliff, the ordeal taking much longer than the falling had.

“How did you know there was an underground river?” Lancelot asked once they were close to the top.

“My mother,” Arthur panted, “She used to take me here on days father let her set her own schedule.”

Lancelot shook his head, almost disbelieving. 

“You remember the land thirty years later?” he couldn't stop himself from answering.

“I may be the uncrowned king of the skies,” Arthur's voice was tense, “but that doesn't mean I don't have a connection with the ground.”

Lancelot joined Arthur on the top of the cliff. They stared out at the rusty plains in silence.

Kay arrived about ten minutes later.

“Kay,” Lancelot nodded as he boarded Kay's personal craft. Kay rolled his eyes.

“Lock yourselves in,” Kay told them, “I'm going straight up.”

Arthur locked half as many restraint points in as Lancelot.

“Whatever,” Kay shrugged.

Kay turned his craft back on, flipped three switches, and took a deep breath.

His craft listened to his careful steering, turning its nose to the sun and accelerating well beyond the generally considered safe limit for a personal craft.

“The Prydwin is ready to depart as soon as you're on board,” Kay informed Arthur, “Though if you could stop cliff jumping every time Lance's rendezvous is anywhere near a pool, it would be appreciated.”

The Prydwin came into their field of vision a few moments later. She was a stunning ship. Built to haul cargo from port to port, she was one of the first airships that broke the sound barrier. Arthur had demanded her hull was decorated with gold so she was the most visible ship in the sky. Her crew ran near one hundred, each sleeping four to a quarter. 

“She's so breathtaking every time,” Arthur said fondly.

“She really helps cement your public image,” Kay grumbled.

Kay parked on the ship's upper deck, startling the nearby crew. He exited first. Lancelot dragged Arthur back onto the deck.

“Captain,” someone called, “Captain, we're waiting for your word.

“Go, go, off we go,” Arthur waved him off.

There was a mad scramble as everyone took their place. Arthur sauntered off to the captain's office and plopped in his chair with no ceremony.

Lancelot and Kay followed him.

“Shut the doors,” Arthur told them. Lancelot did. Kay sat down across from Arthur.

“Captain -” Kay started.

“None of that here,” Arthur snapped.

“Arthur,” Kay frowned, “We're an hour behind.”

“The cargo isn't time-sensitive,” Arthur sounded unbothered, “and we'll arrive within the acceptable window anyways.”

“We're docking at a Check Point Delta,” Kay informed him, “So we'll land in time, but we won't unload in time.”

Arthur sighed heavily, drumming his fingers on his desk. It was a dull sound, almost missed.

An alarm sounded.

“Ah, finally,” Kay muttered.

The Prydwin began acceleration, a slow thing as the Ether powering the ship fired back up.

Then everything, all at once.

Lancelot slid out of his seat. Kay braced himself against Arthur's desk to avoid the same blunder. Arthur didn't seem to notice the force.

“Do we have anything on board we shouldn't?” Arthur asked.

“Some papers,” Lancelot said, “They're in my quarters.”

“Cargo is all accounted for in the manifesto,” Kay informed him, “As is every cent.”

“Alright,” Arthur nodded, “Lance, hide the papers, whatever it takes. Kay, grab a few of our most polished-looking crew who know how to keep quiet and smile to greet whoever comes aboard.”

Kay nodded.

“When did Paris become a Check Point Delta?” Lancelot asked.

“Two days ago,” Kay replied, “After we left from Tokyo.”

“Well shit,” Lancelot looked furious, “They've never set up a Delta in a major city before.”

“Blame their fear of the insane heir over here,” Kay jerked a thumb at Arthur, “If they get control of Pendragon, they own every major trade ship. They want that more than anything.”

Arthur exhaled, a loud thing.

“They won't get Pendragon,” he sounded like he was trying to assure himself more than the other two, “We're the only company licensed to carry cold storage produce. They take us, produce is gone.”

“And so are Lancelot's little ground missions,” Kay said coldly, “Arthur, if people knew you let one of your crew take unscheduled ground leave...”

“Lance knows the risks,” Arthur dismissed Kay, “and so do I.”

“The world may think you don't care,” Kay snarled, “but I know better.”

“Do you?” Arthur challenged.

“Yes,” Kay held firm, “Anyways, we'll be in Paris in three hours. Your dinner is an hour after that. Try not to punch anyone.”

“I though I said I was sending Percival,” Arthur froze, “He always goes to these dinners.”

“This is the annual one,” Kay rubbed his hands over his face, “No Emissaries.”

“Fiiiine,” Arthur wined, “But after I'm going to a club.”

“Next pickup is in Cardiff,” Kay kept talking, “We should have about three days of nothing between them.”

“Right, right,” Arthur said as he stood, “I'm going to go get changed. You two know what you need to do.”

Arthur left them in his office.

“He's lost it,” Kay informed Lancelot.

“Not yet,” Lancelot disagreed, “He's just stressed.”

“Just stressed,” Kay hissed, “He's been CEO for two years! Nothing's changed in those two years!”

“The Commission absorbed seventeen charter cargo companies in the last two years,” Lancelot reminded him, “You're one of five of us in the entire company that has a private vehicle. Most of us couldn't afford the Ether if we wanted one.”

“Your point?” Kay raised an eyebrow.

“My point,” Lancelot said as he rose to his feet, “is that if Pendragon Corps wasn't so obscenely rich that it can burn Ether like our ancestors burned gasoline, Arthur wouldn't have a company to lead.”

“And yet Arthur isn't worried,” Kay sounded defeated, “Like he doesn't think we could ever run out of money.”

“You say that like some of our contracts are entertaining jumping ship,” Lancelot frowned.

“Not yet,” Kay stood up, “Go hide your papers.”

–

Arthur didn't march, but it was a near thing as he exited his ship. The docking loft had been narrower than usual, so The Prydwin had been forced to dock higher than usual. The connecting ramp was steep.

Arthur had changed into his best suit. His normally windswept, uncombed hair had been tamed down into something respectable.

Kay joined him on the dock itself, dressed in all black. Kay had let his hair down and left his normal scowl on the ship.

“Quartermaster Kay,” Arthur aimed for formal and missed the mark, “Shall we?”

They walked in-step with each other into the glass skyscraper that connected the docks with the city below.

The elevator ride to the ground afforded them a brief look at the city. Arthur had closed his eyes to avoid getting dizzy.

“So you'll jump off a cliff but an elevator is too much for your senses?” Kay teased.

“Yep,” Arthur said through gritted teeth.

They exited the elevator one at a time with Arthur taking the lead. 

“Captain Pendragon!” a woman Arthur had never seen before exclaimed, “If you would follow me, I will escort you to Master Henwick's car.”

Arthur nodded and offered a small, stiff bow. The woman took off at a brisk pace. Arthur caught up to her in a few strides. Kay hung back a step and a half.

“Your ship was early,” the woman said, “Is it true the Prydwin can break the sound barrier?”

“Only without cargo,” Arthur tried to downplay the ship's grandeur.

She works against us, he reminded himself the instant he thought he could make idle chat.

She opened the back door of a long hovercraft. Kay stepped inside first. Arthur slid in without effort.

The woman talked the entire drive, often leaving no room for either of them to speak. Kay took the ride to relax his mind, chasing out the concerns he had over letting Arthur go anywhere in public without a script.

The restaurant they arrived at was finished with sheets of matte black slate. The lights were dim, as if to suggest they were powered by fire rather than electricity.

“The Excalibur and The Camelot arrived before you did,” the woman informed them as she disabled the hovercraft. The thing landed with a thud.

Amateur, Kay noted.

“Captains Guinevere and Tristan and their first mates Vivien and Galehaut are already seated,” a waiter told them as soon as they entered, “As are Master Henwick and Master Lucian.”

Arthur and Kay were escorted to a large, rectangular table draped in fine white linen. Gwen and Vivien were chatting softly with each other. Galehaut was thumbing through the menu. Tristan was a captive audience to the two Masters at the table.

“Arthur!” Gwen exclaimed, “I'm so glad you made it early.”

Arthur shot Kay a look as if to say What were you saying about being late?

“Captain,” Master Henwick rose to greet him, “What a pleasure to have you join us.”

“As it is a pleasure to be invited,” Arthur flashed a winning smile with just a few too many teeth showing.

“Come, please,” Master Lucian beckoned. Arthur took a seat next to Gwen. Kay took the seat between Arthur and Galehaut.

“The Avalon is set to dock any minute now,” Gwen told him, “And The Albion docked shortly after you. They should be all but on your heels.”

“Captain Gawain and his first mate Sagramore are two minutes away,” Master Henwick informed the table, “Captain Gareth and his first mate are five.”

Arthur didn't miss how Henwick skipped over Mordred's name. The young lad had been a source of a larger-than expected media frenzy when Arthur has first hired him as a communications officer aboard one of his flagships.

Mordred has spent most of his twenties in a high-security prison for treason. He had smuggled goods into territories The Commission didn't recognize as official, as well as equipped the communities with a single Ether-powered skimmer.

He had been released on good behavior, but banned from working for The Commission and any affiliate companies.

He'd worked for Pendragon Corps for five years now, and as first mate for less than a year. Gareth had liked his cunning, work ethic, and ability to surprise anyone with his insight, and Arthur hadn't argued.

Trust in each other was his unofficial motto.

Arthur sat through everyone else's idle chatter while they awaited the last four. Henwick's estimate was exact.

“So,” Henwick called the table's attention to himself, “I hope you don't mind, but this is a fixed-course dinner.”

“Naturally,” Gareth nodded.

“Arthur,” Lucian opened, “How's Pendragon Corps fairing?”

“Same trajectory as last year,” Arthur offered, “The Prydwin is the prize of the fleet, and with five flagships we've definitely carved out a niche in the market.”

“And your Ethermancer,” Lucian pressed, “Has he fared well?”

“Merlin?” Arthur almost laughed, “He's been fine. Passed the in-flight tests the first time. Doesn't complain. Ether's non-corrosive.”

Merlin had been another media frenzy. Around the same time Mordred was promoted, The Prydwin was ready to set sail. Arthur had hired on an Ethermancer who had been kicked out of The Grove on account of his poor performance. The drop-outs like him had one chance, if hired – and generally they were only hired by someone desperate – to pass an in-flight exam to show they were capable.

Arthur had been painted as a careless risk taker, a child in a man's body, unfit to run a company, nonetheless one as powerful as Pendragon Corps.

Then The Prydwin failed to have any problems and the company remained a force to be reckoned with, the media lost interest.

“It must be so boring,” Henwick said idly, “being on the ground all the time. Can you imagine wasting your life with everyone else when you could live in the skies?”

Kai kicked Arthur under the table.

“I can imagine,” Gwen said to cover for whatever Arthur was going to say, “that the ancient saying, 'Ignorance is bliss,' applies to them very well.”

“May very well be,” Henwick shook his head, “You know, when my father hosted these dinners, he would have to book the entire restaurant to accommodate all the captains from all the different companies?”

“Really?” Arthur asked before anyone stopped him. They all knew – they were told every year – about how The Commission helped unify trade and build the world as they knew it. Next came the bragging about how every company The Commission has taken on turned more profit that had ever been projected by their former owners.

The five captains and their first mates would sit through over an hour of Henwick and Lucian boasting about how successful they were. The Masters would try to convince them that by joining, the result would be seamless, effortless trade connecting every person in the world.

So long as you recognize the land they live on as legitimate, Mordred's icy stare would reply, So long as they can afford to still live in your world.

“We're close to discovering a new way of refining Ether,” Henwick announced while they were waiting for dessert, “If this is a success, it will reduce the work for Ethermancers, as well as allow for newer, faster ships.”

“That would be exciting,” Arthur managed to say.

–

Almost as soon as they exited the restraint, Arthur took off at a much brisker pace than one would consider walking.

“Arthur,” Kai said under his breath, “Really?”

“I've got him,” Gwen said as she took off after him.

“I, uh,” Tristan said in the direction they were running, “just in case.”

“Good idea,” Mordred agreed.

“Fuckit,” Kai muttered.

Soon, all ten of them were running as fast as they could after Arthur who, for his part, seemed to be taunting them. A few times he slowed to a skip. No one caught up before he cut to the front of a two-block line and was let in the door.

“Well now we aren't getting him back until tomorrow,” Vivien observed.

“He did say this was what he was going to do,” Kai sighed, “So help me, if someone managed to take pictures, I'm not making calls to have them taken down. Also, I think he managed to find a pair of running shoes that look like formal shoes.”

The nine Arthur had left in the street made a collective turn back towards the docks.

“He's always running,” Gwen said to no one in particular.

“He's been running a long time,” Mordred sounded winded, “if his speed is anything to go by.”

“What's he running from, though?” Gawain wondered aloud.

“The better question,” Kay said cryptically, “is what is he running to.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, puzzled.

“Pendragon Corps is a family business,” Kay elaborated, “if he's running from something, we would have seen it generations ago.”

“Unless he pissed someone off,” Sagramore added, “He's...not his father.”

“Which isn't a bad thing,” Gareth was quick to add, “But I can't pretend he is easy to understand.”

“Making sure the world knows he doesn't care is going to be what he's remember for,” Vivian noted, “Unless he manages to come up with better reasons for not joining The Commission.”

“If I joined, we wouldn't have need for these lovely annual dinners, Like, Christ, was that really something he needed to say?” Gareth was laughing despite the heat in his words.

“We only have one more run before break,” Kay told everyone, “What about the rest of you?”

“We're done,” Gareth said.

“One as well,” Gwen scrunched her face as if she was having trouble remembering.

“Also done,” Gawain smiled.

“Two more,” Tristan frowned, “But one's a half-day run.”

“Having all his flagships serviced at the same time,” Galehaut shook his head, “It's like he wants people to come and gawk at port.”

“Only Arthur knows what Arthur wants,” Kay's tone was snippy, “Regardless, three weeks off is a generous thing.”

“What do the rest of the ships get?” Vivian asked, “I mean, I know the flagship crews are based on merit, but how much better do they have it than the rest of the company?”

“Everyone gets three weeks,” Kay corrected her, “Plus the standard days off, holiday, family, sick, what have you.”

“Pendragon Corps has prided itself on equity since its inception,” Tristan said with half a smile, “And as long as you're, well, working for Pendragon, the equity is there.”

“More or less,” Kay shrugged, “I can't imagine the trade system would even be needed if everyone could afford a personal craft.”

“Like yours,” Mordred all but spat, “How is it you have one, anyways?”

“I know you're not asking how I paid for it,” Kay looked back at the younger first mate, “It's useful.”

“What's it like,” Mordred's voice was no kinder, “working with him so closely?”

“Not much unlike this,” Kay sighed, “He has Pendragon's best interests in mind, but beyond that?”

“His priorities chart is a roulette wheel,” Gwen answered, “I'm just thankful he's kept Pendragon independent. We'd lose over half our crew if he decided to let The Commission take over.”

“We have that many from the outlands?” Mordred didn't bother to hide his shock.

“More, if we include ground and port crews,” Kay told him, “Arthur's a risk-taker.”

“Do you honestly believe the outlands are still toxic?” Galehaut asked, “It's been a few hundred years.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment as they looked around to see if they could see anyone else. 

“Ask again once we're back at the ship,” Kay's forced calm felt like an oncoming storm.

–

Lancelot was mixing everyone drinks as they lazed about the captain's office.

“Arthur should be back before daybreak,” Kay told everyone, “He may not even be surprised we've taken up residence in his office.”

“We're a long way from a pub,” Gareth noted as if it wasn't obvious.

“Good news is Arthur keeps a small bar's worth of liquor,” Lancelot said as he handed out drinks, “Let me guess: He did exactly what he said he would?”

“He's fast,” Gawain complained, “Nobody has the right to be so light on their feet.”

“Especially in dress shoes,” Kay complained as he kicked off his own shoes.

Lancelot sat down on Arthur's desk.

“So,” Merlin cleared his throat, “I know you lot aren't here to socialize if you dragged me out of bed.”

“How's it coming?” Mordred struck at the heart of what they were avoiding.

“Slowly,” Merlin admitted, “but it's still coming along. We should have a way to communicate between flagships as well as track each other's movements before the next harvest season.”

Kay exhaled loudly, “That fast?”

“Lance here has been invaluable,” Merlin indicated the man in question, “The older ships had technology that's gone extinct.”

“But you can get it working?” Mordred asked.

“Just because I failed out of The Grove doesn't mean I'm incapable,” Merlin huffed.

“Wasn't saying that,” Mordred was quick to add, “Extinct tech went extinct because Ethermancers couldn't power it.”

“Your Grove-trained Ethermancer can't operate it,” Lancelot corrected, “Merlin doesn't have those trappings.”

“The Grove produces your standard Ethermancer,” Merlin said bitterly, “Anything that isn't standard – Commission forbid anything that resembles the wild Ethermancy from the early days – is trained out.”

A collective shiver made its was around the room.

“I am glad you failed out,” Lancelot grinned, “It makes the breaks you need much more plausible.”

“So you can go sneaking through Graveyards,” Merlin laughed, “You're almost as mad as Arthur.”

“Almost,” Lancelot agreed.

“Do you really believe the Outlands are still toxic?” Galehaut repeated his earlier question.

“No,” Mordred was quick to say, “I was arrested in the border region. The people I worked with made regular trips to the Outlands.”

“If Arthur succeeds,” Gwen said, “If we succeed in bringing back old tech...”

“...The Commission may try to take him out,” Kay finished, “But if they don't succeed, it could make Pendragon the strongest trader in history.”

“It would definitely make everything easier,” Gareth rubbed one hand down the side of his face, “But the implications...”

“The Commission could use it to track people on the ground,” Merlin grimaced, “If they could miniaturize it.”

“It will stay with Pendragon,” Lancelot sounded confident, “Arthur believes in the mission too much to turn it into...that.”

“I hope he stays true,” Mordred shook his head, “But he took me in, so I don't have room to doubt him.”

“You,” Gareth said firmly, “have been a great asset.” Mordred had the decency to look humbled.

Arthur came stumbling in the office alone, wearing someone else's clothes, and panting. The lights from the docks were just enough to show he was bleeding from the temple.

Gwen, Gareth, Sagramore, Merlin rushed to him. Mordred and Sagramore froze. Lancelot got up lazily and started fixing another drink. Vivien looked to Kay for a cue. Kay offered a disappointed sigh, but not much else.

“What happened?” Gwen asked him.

“The club,” Arthur slurred, “was fun.”

“Your definition of fun and mine are miles apart,” Lancelot said dryly, “Here, it's just rum with a splash of simple syrup.”

“Thanks,” Arthur toasted Lancelot as he took the drink, “The club was fun. The walk back to the ship was a bit of a misadventure.”

“Here, sit,” Merlin guided Arthur into the chair he had been sitting in, “And hold still.”

Merlin placed a hand over Arthur's wound and closed his eyes.

“The driver,” Arthur started saying, “I recognized her face. Must've been five or six of the bastards.”

“Slowly,” Kay instructed, “and from the top.”

“I left the club in one piece,” Arthur winced, “and was about six or eight or so blocks from the docks when I was hit across the back with a rod or a bat. Now, I know how to fall, but it's a bit harder when you've had the wind knocked out of you.”

“An assault,” Mordred assessed, “How did you escape, and whose clothes are you wearing?”

Arthur looked at his lap as if trying to figure that out himself.

“Someone at the club?” Arthur guessed, “And I did what I always do when I get to my feet. I ran.”

“Ran...through them?” Vivian asked.

“More or less,” Arthur tried to shrug. “I'm slippery.”

“You're impossible,” Lancelot told him.

“There,” Merlin said as he withdrew his hand, “Bleeding should have stopped. Anywhere else?”

“No idea,” Arthur answered honestly, “That was a boot,” he indicated the spot Merlin had healed.

“So uh,” Mordred addressed Merlin, “What the fuck?”

Merlin sighed, a heavy thing, before he spoke. “Ether isn't a fuel source. It's a life source. It's...everywhere. Volatile, if you don't know what you're doing, but if you know how to handle it, it's, well, magic would be the closet word I know.”

“You failed intentionally,” Vivian put the pieces together.

“And quickly,” Merlin confirmed her guess, “I've been able to weave Ether since I was a child. My parents sent me to The Grove, but well. You've all seen my file.”

“A truant drunkard who wouldn't know how to weave his way out of a box,” Arthur chuckled, “It's your eyes. They're the eyes of someone who's winning a game everyone around him doesn't know they're playing.”

“What made you hire me?” Mordred felt bold.

“Also your eyes,” Arthur was still very drunk, “Your time in prison only strengthened your belief The Commission is wrong. I needed someone who had every chance to break but didn't.”

“Do you just weigh people upon meeting based on their eyes?” Kay asked.

“More or less,” Arthur shrugged, “Everyone's eyes tells their story. We're trying to recreate old tech while also resisting the company that effectively owns the world. I need tough folks.”

“You need sleep,” Gwen informed Arthur.

“I need a lot of things,” Arthur waved her concern off, “But I was able to get a location of a graveyard we haven't been to out of...whoever's clothes I'm wearing.”

“I...I don't want the details,” Lancelot looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh of scream, “A brand new one?”

“No Graveyard is new,” Arthur pointed out, “But one we haven't visited before, yes.”

“There are several estimated to be in the Outlands and the borderlands,” Mordred added, “But I am guessing this one isn't in forbidden territory.”

“It's near our next pickup,” Arthur grinned, “Underground, but accessible by cave.”

“Let me know where,” Merlin said, “and I'll make sure I need a convenient break in my Weaving around there.”

“Excellent,” Arthur sounded pleased, “Now, it's late and half of us have some pickups to get to in the morning. Does anyone need anything else?”

“Not us,” Gawain said, “Just...be careful, Arthur. If they're willing to attack you in public, they're going to go after you again.”

“Not in the skies,” Sagramore pointed out, “The Prydwin is too new to have a major malfunction, and if it was openly attacked it would damage The Commission's reputation at best.”

“We're good,” Gareth said quietly, “We'll see you back at The Towers.”

“We've got everything we need,” Tristan assured him.

“We're alright,” Gwen smiled, “Don't do anything irreversibly stupid before leave starts.”

“No promises,” Lancelot answered for Arthur, “Be well.”

Everyone but Arthur, Kay, and Lancelot headed out of Arthur's office slowly, almost reluctantly.

Arthur heard Mordred ask, “Will he be alright?” when he thought he was out of earshot.

“Will I?” Arthur asked the other two quietly.

“Do you want to be?” Kay crossed his arms and faced his captain.

“Yes,” Arthur didn't hesitate to answer, “But more than that, I want to see the trade routes opened to the borderlands, at least.”

“We'll do it,” Lancelot's voice was steady, “It will take time and luck, but we'll do it.”

Kay put one hand on Arthur's back to urge him to stand. Arthur rose slowly, suddenly aware of the pain he was in.

“I think the adrenaline has worn off,” Arthur managed.

Kay and Lancelot each took one of Arthur's arms over their shoulders and started helping him back to his quarters. Their captain was asleep on his feet before they got down the stairs.

“I've got him from here,” Lancelot said, “Get to bed, Kay.”

“You know where I sleep if you need anything,” Kay shrugged Arthur off, “Though try not to need anything before the first wake-up call, will you?”

Lancelot nodded before he hauled Arthur into his room.

He deposited Arthur onto the bottom bunk with no ceremony. Arthur's back landed on the mattress with a soft thud. Lancelot kicked Arthur's legs onto the mattress as well.

“Guess I'll take the top bunk,” Lancelot sighed, “You were smart to put officers two to a room instead of four, you know?”

In his room, Kay was greeted by a very awake Bedivere.

“Long night?” Bedivere asked.

“Understatement,” shook his head, “Arthur was attacked.”

“What?” Bedivere was suddenly very awake. Kai grumbled and sat on the floor.

“He ran off to a night club after dinner. No one caught him, and he managed to cut the entire line. We all went back here, and Arthur, well, he came back bleeding and drunk.”

“Shit,” Bedivere hissed, “Is he alright.”

“As alright as he ever is,” Kay's voice was tight, “Are the guns all primed and the gunners all ready to roll at a moment's notice?”

“Always,” Bedivere nodded, “You think it will come to that?”

Kay paused to consider the question.

“Also, are you sleeping on the floor?” Bedivere asked.

“Maybe,” Kay stretched, “And I'm not sure. I want to be ready for anything.”

“Get to bed,” Bedivere told him, “You'll regret it otherwise.”

“Get in the top bunk,” Kai ordered Bedivere, “I'm not climbing a ladder right now.”

Bedivere chuckled and swung himself up to the top bunk with one hand. 

“Took it off already?” Kay asked, indicating Bedivere's missing hand.

“Took it off as soon as my watch ended,” Bedivere said, “It's helpful, but it itches like hell.”

Kay shrugged and hoisted himself from the floor to the lower bunk. He shifted until most of his body was on the bed. He remained as he landed, face-down and loose limbed. Bedivere chuckled faintly before settling completely into his own bunk.


End file.
